


maybe love will grant you peace of mind

by thebitterbeast



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Gen, I guess you could take it that miller/monty are a thing if you want too, M/M, Murphy is now a Jaha, Thelonius' name is Theo in this, a bit of clarke/anya and murphy/emori and lexa/costia, also Theo and Marcus are a thing because somehow that always happens in my fics, also a little hint of jasper/maya and some definite octavia/lincoln mentioned there, also a lot of Wells love, took an AU prompt and ran with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebitterbeast/pseuds/thebitterbeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wells gets turned into a frog. Clarke is determined to break his curse. Wells would much rather she didn’t.</p><p>[alternatively, “my best friend got turned into a frog and now i’m being the best wingman/woman/person ever by carrying them around to bars and getting hot people to kiss them in hopes of hooking them up with their true love” AU.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe love will grant you peace of mind

**Author's Note:**

> somewhat crack. based on [this post](http://ankahikoibaat.tumblr.com/post/122755704086). also somewhat influenced by [this](http://ankahikoibaat.tumblr.com/post/122493895011).
> 
> (title taken from 'Dig A Little Deeper' from The Princess And The Frog. working title was 'green is not my colour'. just so you know.)

"So clearly your ex is trying to kill you," Wells says to Clarke as he takes the cupcake out of her hands and away from her. "He doesn't know you're allergic to peanuts?"  
  
She frowns, whether at him or the cupcakes, Wells doesn't know and honestly? Doesn't really care. He holds the cake away from his foster brother when Murphy tries to swipe it.  
  
"Uh-uh, little brother," he taunts. "You're on a low sugar diet, remember? Do you want me to tell Dad?"  
  
The frown on Murphy's face is clearly meant for Wells, and the taller man just laughs before making a show of taking a big bite of the cake.  
  
The next thing he knows, he's looking up at Clarke and Murphy, both of whom look very shocked, and also a little amused in Murphy's case. And why is Murphy's phone out?  
  
"Did I just black out? What just happened?"   
  
Clarke, bless her soul, looks worried as she responds. "Wells," she hedges, "you're kind of - the thing is -"  
  
"You're a frog, dude," Murphy cuts in. He picks up a metal spoon and holds it up for Wells to see his reflection.  
  
The green staring back at him has him backing away, and then staring down at himself (which is very awkward) and then at the two other people - he supposes they're the only people - in the room right now. "What the **_fuck_**?"  
  


* * *

"So my ex wasn't trying to kill me, he was trying to curse me," Clarke says some time later. The three of them are sitting on the couch. Or, Wells is on an extra cushion on the couch. Murphy's broken out Dad's alcohol, and Clarke is halfway to drunk.  
  
"Don't think that's any better, Doc," Murphy says, raising an eyebrow at her over Wells' head, which is so fucking weird because Wells is usually the one looking over people's heads.  
  
"I'm a frog," he states mournfully. "How the fuck is this even possible? How do I even turn back?"  
  
Clarke perks up. "What about True Love's Kiss? Like in the stories? That should work."  
  
Both males stare at the blonde in disbelief. "Yeah, no, that shit isn't real," Murphy finally responds. "You're stuck like this forever." There's a pause and then he continues thoughtfully, "You know, I've always wanted a pet."  
  
"It could totally work," Clarke argues. "It doesn't necessarily have to be romantic love, it could be familial or platonic!"  
  
Murphy makes a face at her and shakes his head. "Oh no, no, I'm not kissing a frog. No way. Not even for my brother."  
  
While a part of Wells is joyful that Murphy no longer pauses before calling him his brother, or adds exaggerated air quotes, most of him wholeheartedly agrees with his little brother. "Please don't," he says, but Clarke doesn't heed him and picks him up, and kisses him.  
  
She looks supremely disappointed when nothing happens, putting him down gently and scowling at the world. "We just have to find the right person," she insists, and Wells has a sinking feeling that it's going to be a crazy day.  
  
Or at least almost as crazy as getting turned into a frog.  
  
He looks at the alcohol on the table and wonders if it's possible for frogs to get drunk.

* * *

Thankfully, or not depending on who you ask, the first person Clarke decides they need to go to is Wells’ father. To his credit, Theo Jaha does not even bat an eyelid after Clarke’s explanation and simply kisses his now-a-frog son on the forehead.  
  
Nothing happens, to Clarke’s disappointment, but Wells is not surprised. He knows his father loves him, but he has a feeling things are not going to be as straightforward as Clarke hopes.  
  
Clarke turns to Marcus next, who gamely goes along with her demands – possibly because she’s got that same look in her eyes her mother gets when she wants something – but simply shrugs when he sits back and Wells is still a frog. Even her parents get called in, but no luck.  
  
Instead of getting disheartened, Wells’ best friend seems to get more determined with each failure. His brother, on the other hand, is getting a goldmine of video footage.  
  
“What are you going to do with that?” Wells finally asks in bafflement. Murphy can’t be seriously considering posting that anywhere.  
  
Murphy grins, and isn’t that supremely terrifying, but also strangely warming to Wells’ heart? “YouTube,” he responds gleefully.  
  
Wells splutters, and considering the fact that, you know, he’s a frog, it’s very strange. “You can’t,” he protests.  
  
If anything, Murphy’s grin widens, and honestly, still terrifying, still heartwarming. “And how’re you gonna stop me?” he asks. “You don’t have opposable thumbs!”  
  
Wells glares, and it would be frightening and intimidating if he weren’t green and a frog. Instead, all it does is make Murphy laugh and turn the camera back towards him.  
  
He **really** wants to know if it’s possible for him to get drunk.

* * *

They are seated on the couch again when Clarke speaks up, “We should take you to a bar.”  
  
To say Wells is confused would be an understatement. “I’m a frog, Clarke. Why would you take me to a bar?”  
  
“Drunk people are less likely to question a talking frog,” Murphy explains, and Clarke looks way too pleased about having Murphy on the same wavelength. The bad feeling Wells is having just grows.  
  
“And less likely to question me wanting them to kiss one,” Clarke finishes, and Wells groans. It comes out more like a _ribbit_ , but he doesn’t even care at the moment.  
  
Nothing good will come out of this. **_Nothing_**.

* * *

He doesn’t even bother trying to fight Clarke anymore. He still has the scars from the one big argument they had, a small jagged thing at his hairline from when she threw an ashtray at his head. They were seven, and Wells’ has always kept their arguments from getting that violent again.  
  
(Granted, Clarke wasn’t aiming for his head. She hadn’t even been aiming in his general vicinity. She just had really bad aim, and it hasn’t gotten better over the years.)  
  
The first bar they hit is, to no surprise at all, _Grounders_ , and Clarke approaches the tall bartender with a smile that borders on sultry. “Hey Anya,” she leans against the counter. “I was wondering if you could help me out with something.”  
  
Anya waits while Clarke glances back at Murphy. He saunters up and drops Wells unceremoniously onto the countertop. The older woman looks down and then back up at Clarke, her eyebrows raised. “That’s a frog,” she states blandly.  
  
Clarke tries to play for unaffected, but misses by a mile. “Yup,” she grins widely. “And I need you to kiss him.”  
  
Anya’s eyebrows stay raised and she pushes herself away from the counter and the crazy blonde. Murphy is recording everything and chuckling to himself.  
  
“No,” Wells interjects before things can go any further.  
  
Anya looks down at him and tilts her head. “That’s a talking frog?”  
  
“That’s Wells,” Murphy corrects her. “He got turned into a frog. Clarke thinks getting True Love’s Kiss will fix him.”  
  
Clarke’s cheeks are very pink when Anya looks at her again. She shrugs. “It couldn’t hurt, right? I figure finding him a hot True Love would be great and you’re like, really hot.”  
  
“No,” Wells repeats. “No offense, Anya, but I’d prefer not kissing the woman my best friend wants to kiss. So if you want to kiss anybody here, kiss Clarke.”  
  
Murphy cackles, legit _cackles_ , at the affronted squack that escapes Clarke’s lips. Anya, who is usually unreadable, looks to be fighting back a smile. Wells would love if he had opposable thumbs and actual feet to walk away, because hopping away is seriously undignified.

* * *

 

Anya’s foster sisters are next on Clarke’s list. Lexa refuses flat out, though her girlfriend Costia considers it before the jealousy on Lexa’s face has her snuggling close to the brunette and grinning wryly at Clarke. Emori blinks at Clarke, then Wells, then looks questioningly at Murphy, who strangely enough turns red.  
  
Wells _ribbits_ loudly, and Clarke frowns down at him. He manages to shake his head, because no way is he getting a kiss on the girl his little brother likes. Thankfully, Clarke gets it, but when they leave, she does get at least a little bit of meddling done.  
  
Murphy keeps patting his pocket as if unable to believe he scored Emori’s number. Wells wishes he could take a video of _this_.

* * *

After that, Clarke gets it into her head that maybe Wells’ True Love is someone they already know. Before Wells can stop her, she has called Raven up, and Wells wants to remind her that he and Raven did go on that one date where they decided it was too weird and slipped into being friends and occasionally Clarke’s Voice Of Reason. But he also knows that she will not listen, so he just sighs.  
  
And tries to glare at the camera Murphy thrusts into his face. Really, he just wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend everything is normal and he’s not a frog, can’t they give him that?  
  
“No,” Murphy says, and Wells realizes he said that last bit out loud. “Yeah, you kinda did.” And apparently that too.  
  
“Fuck off,” he finally settles on, and turns his back to the younger man.

* * *

“How in the fuck is that even possible?” Is Raven’s exclamation when she hears Clarke’s explanation and sees Wells. She pokes him experimentally in the side. Wells flinches and scowls up at her.  
  
“Ow,” he says pointedly. “It’s not some sort of hologram or whatever the hell you’re thinking it is, Reyes.” He rolls his eyes, and Raven snickers something about things not changing.  
  
Clarke looks so damned hopeful when she turns her blue eyes to her friend that Raven simply shrugs and goes, “What the hell, I’ve kissed worse,” and swoops down to peck Wells on what she assumes is his cheek.  
  
Of course, nothing happens, but Clarke deflates visibly. Wells hops back a few steps to be able to look up at her properly. “Clarke,” he says, very solemnly. “I want you to promise me that if I get stuck this way, you’re not letting Murphy take care of me.”  
  
It is enough to bring some spark back into the blonde’s face, and Murphy’s indignant, “Hey!” has all three chuckling slightly. “I’d be fantastic at taking care of you,” the man complains under his breath.  
  
“What about Fox? Or Miller?” Raven asks, and Wells tilts his head at her. He barely manages not to snarl – and wouldn’t that be weird, a snarling frog? Almost as weird as a talking one! – at Murphy’s camera.  
  
“What about them?” Clarke asks, clearly unbalanced by the change of topic.  
  
Raven leans her elbows against the table Wells has been placed on. “Wells over here is always spending time with one or the other of them,” she points out. “Maybe your bestie has been keeping a secret significant other from you.”  
  
The force of Clarke’s glare has Wells backing away and refuting. “They’re my friends,” he cries out. “We have classes together, and Fox and I work together. Miller’s dad is friends with my dad. Obviously I spend time with them!”  
  
Clarke’s glare does not dissipate. If anything, it gets fiercer. Wells shrinks back. “You’re not going to listen to reason, are you?” he asks finally, and sighs.  
  
Murphy switches the camera off, and smirks. “Does this mean we’re going to _The Ark_ now?”  
  
“God yes, alcohol!” Raven nods before Clarke can say anything. “Definitely need the alcohol.”  
  
Wells manages to jump up on the medical books Clarke has left on the table and ask, “Does anyone know if frogs can get drunk? Because I really need to get drunk.”

* * *

Between Raven and Murphy, their friends have been called to _The Ark_ before they’re even halfway there. Murphy announces that Bellamy is working that night, and Wells holds back a groan.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t like Bellamy. It’s that Bellamy doesn’t like _him_. And Wells barely even knows why.  
  
On the bright side, Octavia is bringing her boyfriend Lincoln, who Wells thinks will take this the best because that man just rolls with whatever’s thrown his way. And Bellamy likes him even less than he likes Wells, so, he thinks he’s safe.  
  
Or as safe as being stuck as a frog potentially forever can be.

* * *

Wells thinks Jasper and Monty are high. It’s hard to tell, because those two are always giggling over some thing or the other. Maya’s definitely a little tipsy if the spots of colour high in her cheeks are anything to go by. Miller – well, Miller’s a stoic piece of shit, so he can’t tell.  
  
“So what’s the what?” Harper finally asks, her arm resting on the back of Fox’s chair, Monroe leaning against her other side.  
  
Clarke presents Wells the Frog to them, and Jasper almost tips over when he leans forward. Yup, definitely high. “Whoa,” he exclaims. “It’s a toad!”  
  
“I’m a frog,” Wells corrects before thinking, and everybody stares while he freezes. That’s one way to tell the world, he supposes. “And I’m Wells.”  
  
If Miller’s eyebrows go any higher, they’ll fly off his face. “How,” Octavia finally splutters out, and Wells is grateful she hasn’t laughed out loud.  
  
Murphy has no qualms with laughing at this unfortunate situation, or gleefully regaling them with how Clarke’s ex tried to kill and curse her. Whichever was his actual aim, they will probably never know. Honestly, Wells does not care. He just wants his own body back.  
  
Monty is the first one to move after Murphy’s done speaking, and he unceremoniously scoops Wells up and presses a chaste kiss to his head. When Jasper looks at him weird, Monty asks, “What? I thought that’s what we’re here for. To break Wells’ curse. Right?”  
  
He looks at Clarke, a little askance and pleading with her to agree. She beams at him. “Exactly,” she trills. “At least _one_ of you has working brains.”  
  
The rest of the group protests vehemently, and Maya’s the next to try her luck at kissing Wells’. He complains as he’s passed from one to the other, and lips are pressed on his head, his cheek, and his lips, **_thanks_** Octavia. When Lincoln finally puts him back down on the counter, Wells’ is dizzy and extremely annoyed.  
  
“So none of that worked,” he states. “Are we done now? Can we be done now?”  
  
Clarke is pouting, her chin resting on her hand. Murphy has finally gotten tired of filming his brother’s discomfort and has put the camera away, thank fuck. The rest of their friends are looking down at Wells with varying degrees of sympathy.  
  
Also, they’re mostly all at least a little drunk, and to say Wells is disgruntled that he is completely sober would be a lie. He’s thoroughly pissed off that no one is letting him drink. Clarke doesn’t know what alcohol will do to Wells’ new frog body.  
  
“Why the fuck is there a frog on my bar?” cuts into the heavy silence that has fallen over the group.  
  
Wells catches sight of Clarke’s face brightening, Octavia’s eyes lighting up as they land on her brother and Raven’s evil smirk, and hops backwards and away from the newly arrived brunette. “No,” he starts. “No, nope, absolutely **_not_** , don’t you **dare**.”  
  
Bellamy drops the cloth he is holding onto the counter and narrows his eyes. “That frog sounds like Jaha.”  
  
“That frog _is_ Jaha,” Murphy informs his friend. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t tried breaking his curse so,” Murphy pushes Wells’ tiny body forward and towards the still confused bartender.  
  
“Technically, neither have you,” Wells points out, knowing that in his state, he can neither fight back nor escape, and completely resigned to his fate. Bellamy’s going to squish him.  
  
Murphy makes some hand movement that Wells misses but has Monroe reaching over to hit him over the head, so Wells assumes his brother flipped him off.  
  
“Look, Blake, you don’t have to listen to these losers,” Wells tries. “I’m pretty sure this will wear off eventually. Or I’ll get used to having flippers.”  
  
Clarke cuts in with a, “No! We’re fixing this, I’m gonna fix this.” She is frowning, and Wells is horrified to see tears in her eyes. The rest of their friends look as adamant as she is, and Wells, well, Wells used to think that they put up with him because he was sort of a package deal with Clarke, and everybody loves Clarke. But apparently they’re all quite fond of him as well. Who knew?  
  
He’s pretty grateful frogs can’t blush right now.  
  
Octavia wraps an arm around Clarke’s waist and nods decisively. “Bell, you have to kiss Wells,” she orders, and Bellamy rears back as if hit.  
  
“What?” he squeaks out. Under other circumstances, Wells would be amused. But these are not normal circumstances.  
  
His sister nods and glares at him. “We all did,” she tells him. “It’s your turn now.”  
  
Bellamy clenches his jaw and glares mutinously at Octavia. Wells hops back a few steps. “Seriously? I’m getting sick of being passed around like a toy,” he bites out. “So if you don’t mind, we could not and say we did.”  
  
“Oh no, Jaha, we’re finding the person who will break this curse. I want my co-Voice Of Reason back to normal before Griffin loses her damned mind completely,” Raven says, using her hands to form a barrier Wells can’t get around.  
  
“Fuck you,” Wells complains half-heartedly. Considering the fact that everyone is so much larger than him at the moment, the fact that he has no opposable thumbs and is a _frog_ , he pretty much can’t survive on his own.  
  
Bellamy seems to realize that he can’t get out of this either and angrily picks Wells up in one hand. Wells _ribbits_ fiercely with the indignity of it all, barely registering the lips that flutter past the top of his head – soft lips, feather light and comforting – before the bartender drops him back down onto the counter.  
  
“See,” he hears. “It didn’t -”  
  
And then there is a fearsome crash as glass shatters around Wells and he flinches, barely bringing his arm up in time to keep the glass from cutting into his face. “Ow,” he mutters.  
  
When he brushes away the glass and looks back at his friends, they are all staring back at him in shock. “What now,” it comes out less like a question and more like a statement.  
  
“Oh thank _god_ , you’re wearing clothes,” Jasper closes his eyes in relief, and Maya snorts. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth immediately, but her eyes sparkle.  
  
Octavia, Raven and Monty all exhale a simultaneous, “Shame,” before exchanging glances and high-fives.  
  
And Wells? Wells looks down at himself and sees long limbs and brown skin and is so fucking relieved to be himself until he realizes what it means. He looks up and catches Bellamy’s equally stunned eyes. “Em,” he manages. “I need a drink.”  
  
Now he can get drunk. And he is going to get rip-roaringly drunk and forget the fact that apparently Bellamy Blake just broke his curse.  
  
(There is a look in Clarke’s eyes that tell him _she’s_ not going to forget this.)  
  
(Murphy is muttering something darkly about not having his camera for this moment.)  
  
(Wells just wants that drink.)

**Author's Note:**

> because the people I follow on tumblr tell me to write things when they should be telling me to stop. I am so sorry about this. so, so sorry.
> 
> (but follow me on [tumblr](http://ankahikoibaat.tumblr.com/) for more wellamy flailing and headcanons?)


End file.
